


Go My Way

by Sir_Bedevere



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 05:45:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/782482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sir_Bedevere/pseuds/Sir_Bedevere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'He wasn’t particularly tall and he wasn’t particularly handsome but when he smiled, his soft brown eyes lit up and he had one of the kindest faces Marya had ever seen.'</p>
<p>AKA - The one where I am a hopeless romantic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Go My Way

She’d seen him around a few times before she really noticed him. 

It was a warm evening and the doors of The Dirty Dog were thrown open to let in the cool breeze from the water. The place was full to bursting with sailors from King’s Landing, three ships having come in that afternoon alone. Marya wound her way through the tables, tray of mugs balanced precisely on her hand, exchanging good-natured teasing with some of the boys that she recognised. They were not much more than boys, most of them, just cutting their teeth at sea and eager to get back out there. One of them blew her a kiss as she walked past and she laughed, not noticing another push his chair back suddenly to stand up. She walked straight into him and bounced off, dropping the tray and ending up flat on her back. 

Unhurt and cursing her own stupid fault, she didn’t even have time to sit up before a gentle hand was helping her to sit.

“Are you alright?” said a concerned voice, thick with a King’s Landing accent.

She looked up at the face that accompanied the voice, shaking her head wryly.

“My fault. Didn’t look where I was going.”

The man smiled and helped her to her feet. He was a man, only a young one, but older than most of the boys in the tavern. He wasn’t particularly tall and he wasn’t particularly handsome but when he smiled, his soft brown eyes lit up and he had one of the kindest faces Marya had ever seen. 

“Thank you,” she said, “I think I know you. You been here before?”

“Aye,” he nodded, “Davos is the name.”

“Well Davos,” Marya said, “Thank you again. Hang around a while and I’ll bring you a mug of ale.”

“Another time,” he said, “I’ll be off in a minute. I’m just meeting someone.”

“Suit yourself,” Marya patted his arm, “I’ll see you again.”

She took the now empty tray back to the bar and started to pour some more drinks. There was a crash behind her and Sanya, a girl who worked there too, appeared with her coat on. 

“You finished up, love?”

“Yes. I’m meeting someone,” Sanya whispered, as though it was a big secret, “My Da doesn’t know.”

“Is his name Davos, by any chance?” Marya asked, her eyes straying to where Davos had taken up a position leaning against the wall by the door. 

“Mmm,” Sanya said dreamily, “We’re going for a walk along the harbour.”

“Well, have fun, and be careful.”

“I always am.”

Marya watched as Sanya skipped over to Davos, who smiled nervously and took the hand that she offered. He was a few years older than Sanya, maybe twenty-two name days to her seventeen, but you would never know it from the way he was acting. Sanya was much more confident than he was. Of course, Sanya was always more confident. She had a new sailor every week, and good on her. She never gave them more than a peck on the cheek and the honour of her company and they in return bought her food for a week. Marya was usually envious of her but something about this one, about Davos, made her feel sad. 

A week later, Davos was still around. He’d met Sanya every day after she finished working and he was besotted. He talked to Marya, now that they were on first name terms, and although he didn’t often talk about Sanya, Marya could see it on his face the moment that the other girl came into the room. He told stories about his travels, far off places that Marya had never even heard of. She asked him once what ship he had learned his trade on but he didn’t answer, changing the subject. That meant he was a smuggler. The smugglers were all the same, thinking they were being clever when they kept quiet, when actually any other sailor was either quick to boast of his ship or quick to complain about it. Davos didn’t look like a smuggler but Marya didn’t mind that he was; the smugglers were generous with what they had and tipped well and no one from Flea Bottom ever begrudged anyone else the chance to make a living. She wasn’t sure that Sanya knew – the girl wouldn’t think to ask questions like that – but it probably did not matter. 

Then, one evening, Davos did not appear and Sanya didn’t say a word. Thinking he had sailed out again, Marya put him and his smile out of her mind, but a few days later she saw him one afternoon sitting out in the sun with some Braavosi sailors, sharing a skin of wine. At the tavern she cornered Sanya to find out the news.

“What happened to Davos then?” she asked, wiping a tankard clean and eying Sanya casually. 

“He asked me to marry him!” Sanya laughed, “Imagine that. I told him the day I married a dirty, poor sailor from Flea Bottom would be the day I might as well go and drown myself in the Blackwater. I knew he was too old. The old ones always want to get married.”

“Old? He’s twenty two if he was a day!” Marya snapped, slamming the tankard down on the bar, “And he isn’t dirty. And he isn’t poor, you stupid girl. If you took any time to talk to the poor lads you play with you would know that he’s a smuggler! He’d probably be able to keep you better than all the pretend knights and princes that you have designs on!”

Sanya’s mouth fell open and Marya blushed. She didn’t lose her temper very often, not often at all, and to do it defending Davos…she just hoped that Sanya hadn’t noticed.

“He’s a smuggler?” the younger girl hissed, and Marya let out the breath she had been holding. Sanya hadn’t noticed her clear liking for the man.

“Yes, and you’ve just thrown him away.”

There didn’t seem to be anything else to say after that and they didn’t speak until the tavern closed at midnight and they walked home together, the fear of what they might meet in the dark stronger than their argument. 

At the corner, by The Dancing Star, they ran into Davos. He looked almost set to disappear in the opposite direction, blushing when he looked at Sanya, but then Marya smiled at him and he ducked his head shyly. 

“Sanya,” he nodded, “Marya. Can I – uh – can I walk you both home?”

“Never mind that!” Sanya said, “Why didn’t you tell me you are a smuggler?”

He took a step backwards as though he had been burned and shook his head.

“I’m not – who told you that?”

“Marya did,” Sanya gestured impatiently, “Is she lying?”

Davos looked desperately at her for help but Marya had dropped her eyes to the floor, embarrassed for him and so sorry for her earlier outburst. He looked like a man drowning.

“She is not,” he said eventually, “But I would prefer that no one else find out.”

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” Sanya said and then she moved towards him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing his cheek, “I will marry you, Davos. I’m sorry for being so rude before.”

Marya’s breath caught and she looked up to see Davos was staring straight at her, over Sanya’s shoulder. His eyes were wide, happy, for the briefest of moments and then they clouded over and Marya thanked the gods he had realised for himself what was happening.

“Now you know I have a little bit of gold you want to marry me?” he said, pulling Sanya’s arms from his neck and stepping back from her, “What happened to never marrying a sailor from Flea Bottom?”

Sanya opened her mouth, as though she could actually have an answer, but Davos was already shaking his head.  
“Don’t say another word,” he growled, as close to angry as Marya had ever seen him in the short while they had been friends, and then he was gone, striding away down the harbour to one of the inns at the far end.

Sanya shook her head and sighed flippantly. 

“Come on. My Da will wonder where I am.”

Marya didn’t hear her. She was watching the rapidly retreating figure with the hunched shoulders disappear into the mist coming in off the sea.

After that evening, she didn’t see Davos again for three months and the tavern kept her so busy that she didn’t have time to think too much about him. Sanya left to go and work for one of the bakers in Flea Bottom and the landlord decided not to get in another girl to help, so Marya was rushed off her feet. She waited though, every time a ship came in and the sailors came rushing in to the tavern. She waited for him. 

One evening, a few Tyroshi sailors had come in and started up with their flutes and fiddles. There was a merry atmosphere and some of the sailors had gone out to drag some girls in to dance with them. A few of them asked Marya but she refused, busy as she was, and content to watch. Towards closing time, when the musicians were still playing but some of the patrons had gone back to their ships, the door swung open and there was Davos. Marya gasped and waved him over to the bar. He grinned as he slipped onto one of the high stools in front of her.

“Hello again.”

“Davos, what have you been up to?

She was looking a nearly healed cut above his eyebrow, fading now but obviously deep. Without thinking she put out a hand and brushed her thumb across it. Davos reached up and took her hand.

“Nothing to worry yourself with. Will – will you dance with me, Marya?”

The bar was quiet and the landlord snoring in a chair in the storeroom, but Marya thought that she would have said yes even if the landlord threatened to take her job away from her. Davos led her out from behind the bar and towards the few remaining dancers. It was a quick dance, one that Davos performed clumsily and Marya only a little better, but they both laughed and he didn’t let go of her hand, not once. 

He waited for her afterwards and said he would walk her home. On the corner, by The Dancing Star, he stopped.

“How did you know I was a smuggler?”

“You wouldn’t tell me the name of your ship,” she shrugged, “You don’t work in a sailor’s tavern and not learn a few things about sailors, you know.”

“Sanya did,” he muttered, and Marya’s heart dropped. Was this why he had come to see her? Because of Sanya?

“You don’t mind that I’m a smuggler?” he said suddenly, his soft eyes full of intensity, “It doesn’t matter?”

She shook her head.

“I wouldn’t mind if you weren’t either,” she murmured, “You’re one of the best men I’ve ever met, Davos. I knew it from the first minute.”

He only hesitated for a second before he moved, pulling her towards him and timidly pressing his lips to hers. Marya kissed him back, as well as she could. She didn’t have Sanya’s experience but then, it seemed, neither did he. He kissed like he danced – clumsy but earnest – and her heart swelled in her chest. After a minute he pulled away, breathless, and gazed at her in wonder.

“I started to think of you,” he said slowly, “When I was away. I started to think of you and then I couldn’t stop. That’s never happened to me before.”

Marya reached up with one hand and laid it on his bearded cheek, running a thumb over his lips.

“I thought of you too. Every day. I’m so sorry for what happened. I didn’t think Sanya would-”

“That doesn’t matter anymore,” he whispered, “It’s you now. Just you, Marya. Kiss me again. Please.”

_One marriage, seven sons and three wars later, Marya would remember that shy boy at the harbour who had asked her to kiss him and she would know that, no matter the distance between them sometimes, she had not made a mistake._

_She had never been wrong about him._

**Author's Note:**

> Title and vague outline based on a pretty awesome song by Bellowhead. They have a lot of songs that give me Davos feelings.
> 
> Check out 'Go My Way' here - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pBCeVJrmZ9o


End file.
